Establishments and Reconnections
by Kagu-tsuchi-13
Summary: When Kitty turned to Quinn, needing help for Marley's...unusual condition, as well as guidance for establishing the basis of a relationship, Quinn was hesitant. At least that was until she started to realize that it was just what she needed to reconnect with the one that she let slip away. G!P


**Important Note: I submitted this story two days ago, but it got incredibly weak feedback and I deleted it. I got a couple of PMs asking why I took it down and when I told them why I did, they told me I should reupload it. I wasn't going to, but another PM convinced me I should.**

**This is both a Karley and Faberry fic, as well as G!P fic. If that offends you then please flame me so I can post it on my profile for others to laugh at. **

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"Another ten laps girls! Work those quads and hamstrings!" Coach Beistie's loud and authoritative voice boomed through a megaphone, amplifying its message five-fold.

The message—which echoed through the nearly empty gymnasium—elicited numerous moans and groans from the twenty or so girls that were already gasping for breath and perspiring so much that their shirts bore huge disgusting stains—it being very palpable due to the white tees, that, along with gray shorts, were apart of the mandatory gym attire.

But while twenty or so girls were wobbling, crying and holding their sides in agony, one girl was not. One girl was already in peak physical condition; one girl could easily do another twenty laps—and then follow up with some lunges and a couple of jumping jacks; and that one girl was also taking great pleasure in her fellow peers misery.

"Pick up the pace, pansies!" Kitty said smugly. She took long and powerful strides, displaying well muscled quads and calves, as she easily passed the others. "A little cardio won't kill you."

Yes, for Kitty Wilde gym class was like a casual stroll in the park—which would likely still be too much for some of these pathetic specimens. And, after pushing so far ahead of the others that she was about to lap them, she knew that it was time for some good natured ribbing.

Kitty spotted her first victim—it being easy as, even in comparison to some of the others, she was trailing behind, mostly because she kept flailing around and tripping over her own two foot—looking as if she had just suffered a stroke.

Kitty then wasted no time in running up to her—Rhonda Clemmins. Better known as Rumpy Rhonda: with her glasses, pigtails, and the fact that she was almost always seen tightly clutching a Vampire Academy book or one of the many other shitty vampire novels that pandered to the teen girl demographic.

Almost too easy.

"Yo, Rhonda, are you getting in shape for the Special Olympics?" she asked mockingly, slowing down her pace enough to catch the sullen expression on Rhonda's face before speeding up.

Kitty then spotted her next target—Debbie McAlister. As both a feminist that never wore a bra because she deemed them "sexist" and the owner of a pair of 42DDs, she was another easy target.

"Hey, Deb, either wear a bra or hire a pair of midgets to stand under you so we don't have to see your gross melons flop around."

That made Debbie look over—yet, unlike Rhonda, she did not seem phased by the insult. "At least I have something to put in a bra."

Caught off guard, Kitty found herself stopping—a result that nearly got her rammed by two Freshman that were huffing by. But she quickly regained her composure and sped up, running past Debbie in the process. Not because she didn't have a rebuttal for Debbie's insult; she could easily retaliate—she just didn't feel like it.

And besides, she just found a much better victim.

And what an amusing sight it was to watch Wade, who shouldn't even be in this class in the first place, run; she didn't know if he was deliberately trying to look like a jackass—as to further the illusion that he was of the female nature—or just a naturally terrible athlete. Though Kitty found herself leaning towards the latter.

She also took notice that someone Naired this morning—a razor just couldn't get that level of smoothness.

"Pick up the pace, Tyson Gay," she cackled as ran up to him and jogged along aside, feeling especially proud at her choice of insults.

"Unique does not sweat," he responded, using that sassy girl voice that Kitty found annoying. "And if you are going to compare me to an Olympic athlete, you best make it Kerri Strug—that woman was a hero!"

Rolling her eyes, she again pushed ahead, hoping to insult everyone at least once before the bell rang. Some were easy targets, others she had to stop and think. But most of all, she wanted to insult her favorite victim; the person that she kind of liked and kind of hated simultaneously. Which begot the question: where was 'ol Marls. Even with those toothpick legs of hers, she shouldn't be struggling that much.

Kitty decided to find out. She pushed herself harder, whizzing by the pathetic and out of shape females while keeping her eyes peeled for Marley's silky brown hair and cute little ass that seemed to dance when she was wearing the right skinny jeans. Not that Kitty had checked her out or anything. No, she had just always prided herself on being a very observant person. Not on the level of Patrick Jane by any means—but she was always the first to take notice of when a fellow Cheerio gained weight or had some work done; it was great for blackmail.

And as she passed by Rhonda, again, it became clear that Marley was not out here with the rest.

What the fuck?!

"Coach," Kitty called out, running over to Beistie, who looked to be highly engrossed by whatever it was that was on the tablet that she was messing with.

"What is it?" Beistie demanded, keeping her tablet up so that the screen was not visible to Kitty.

"Where is Marley?"

"She said she felt like she was going to throw up. To me that's the sign of a good workout, so I let her go to the bathroom."

Kitty raised her brow; was Marley going bulimic again? It made Kitty seriously regret ever getting her started on all that shit; especially if Mr. Schue or Mr. Hudson ever found out that she was the one that convinced Marley to do so in the first place.

"Uh...Coach," Kitty started, doing her best to act like she was nauseous, "...I think I ran too hard. I can feel my lunch coming up. Oh no, I'm gonna—"

"Just go," Beistie interrupted, just as her tablet made a chiming noise. "And work on your acting. No wonder you didn't get the lead in Grease."

Kitty might have said something—but being given the green light to leave, she let it slide and trotted off, running past her miserable classmates that all looked like they wanted to kill her—which just served as a fringe benefit to her.

Now all she had to do was find Marley and get to the bottom of what was going on.

x—x—x—x—x

Kitty had first went to the nurse and learned that Marley had not come by. This was followed by checking both the ladies rooms—neither that Marley was in. And after scoping out the choir room and football field, and getting nothing, she gave up and figured that Marley just went home or something.

"Damn," Kitty cursed under her breath as she headed to the locker room to change out of her gym clothes and into clothes that weren't ugly or putrid, feeling very upset that she didn't find out what was wrong; she hated being out of the loop—about anything. She was almost always the first one to realize when a couple consummated for the first time—and then went out of her way to make the girl feel bad about it. She could also easily figure out when a couple planned to fornicate...and then then didn't. For that she went out of her way to make the guy feel bad.

Now if this had been the first that she was hearing about this then it wouldn't bother her as much. But Kitty had been noticing some rather...erratic behavior coming from Marley for about a week now, it having first started last Thursday in rehearsal when Marley suddenly claimed that she had a bathroom emergency and bolted out the choir room, much to the confusion of Kitty and the ensemble of misfits.

And Kitty, having been both curious and in need of an excuse to get away from Mr. Schue's lesson about 80s hair bands, had followed after her—which ended in her standing outside the stall that Marley had rushed into.

"Do you need a tampon or something?" Kitty had asked her, figuring that it was her time of the month and, being poor, probably used cotton balls and string.

"No...I'm fine...go away!" Marley had grunted out slowly, taking long, drawn out pauses while she spoke.

Her response—combined with the way she responded and the pause between words—was more than enough to rouse Kitty's suspicion.

"Okay, and try to eat more fiber—it will make things go easier," Kitty had said, just before she made her loud exit.

Now it was so clear, Kitty thought, stopping a moment to retrieve her clothes from her gym locker. Both times Marley was rushing off to make herself puke. And Kitty knew she was going to have to find a way to nip it in the bud before it escalated further.

"Damn me and my need to crush others," she muttered under her breath as she forced her locker door open and it slammed against another, creating a loud clang that echoed through the empty room.

And as Kitty listened to the echo, she picked up another sound. It was a tiny, low pitched moan; one so quiet that a person with less acute hearing would never have heard it. But Kitty could hear a fly sneeze from a hundred feet away—it, along with small chests and really blond hair, was a trait that all the Wilde woman possessed.

She listened again—this time more closely. Second time around there was no denying that the person was female...or at least highly feminine. And the sound...it sounded almost like the woman was...masturbating!

Getting yourself off on school property; it was blackmail gold. Kitty had a feeling that she just earned herself a personal servant for the next three years. And all she had to do was find out who the culprit was and maybe snap a pic or two—for evidence.

She followed the low pitched moans, stopping just outside the door that divided the lockers and showers and slowly pushed the door open, it making a small creak sound as it slid. This had to be done cautiously—otherwise the girl would spot her and stop before Kitty could catch her in the act.

Once the door was opened about an inch and three quarters, she stuck a single eye in and started roaming the perimeters. Months of spying for Coach Sylvester had paid off—in spite of the fact that said coach seemed to have forgotten that she had Kitty join the glee club to be a spy.

Seconds later, Kitty found her target. And she was so shocked that she nearly fell backwards. Fortunately, she managed to keep herself silent and sentient while continuing to gaze upon little Marley Rose, sitting on the bench, her right hand thrashing up and down in her gym shorts, stretching the fabric to the max.

It was surprising to say the least. Not because Kitty was shocked that Marley did it. Hell, Kitty knew that a girl that was of age and hadn't discovered how wonderful penis was—if Marls's claims about being a virgin were true, that is—would have to do it or go insane.

And Kitty herself did it...a lot. Though her technique was nothing like Marley's. Far from it. In fact, Marley masturbated a lot like a guy did. Kitty would know, having once mutually masturbated on webcam with a guy that she had been online dating.

Kitty suddenly decided that she needed a closer look—much closer. She tried to push the door open just a little more...

...and ended up falling on her stomach, looking right up at Marley, who was looking back at her—dismayed expression plastered across her face.

"K..kk...ittty..." Marley sputtered, her face having turned three different shades of red.

Kitty quickly picked herself back up and dusted herself off before looking down at Marley—who still had her hand inside her shorts; it appeared to be in a fist, judging by the indent that it was making in the elastic of the crotch, and it almost looked like it was clutching something.

"Hey," she responded. "Don't let me keep you from what you was doing." She accompanied her response with a smile, having gone with the first thing that popped into her head.

"This isn't what it looks like!" Marley quickly pulled her hand out of her shorts and turned her head slightly so that she was facing the west, her long hair swaying as she moved.

"So, it doesn't look like you are rubbing one out," Kitty said as she sat down next to Marley. It was then that she spotted it—a bulge, right in the crotch of Marley's shorts. "What is going on here?" Kitty lashed her arm out, and before Marley could react, stuck her hand into the tiny shorts and immediately brushed against something. She could feel the skin, the texture, the shape; there was no doubt about it—Marley Rose has a bona-fide penis.

"What is this?" Kitty asked, weakly grasping it and squeezing just slightly—getting a slight "yip" from Marely as a result. She wasn't really shocked or freaked out; in fact, she was more surprised over Marley pleasuring herself on school property than by the equipment that she used to do so with.

"I...I...I..." was all Marley could choke out.

Kitty refrained from saying anything; she just let her fingers move over it, getting the feel of it. She then realized that she needed to see it—see for herself what a girl's looked like.

She gradually loosened her grip while using looping her free hand in Marley's shorts, not missing a beat as she pulled them down, taking along a pair of blue Hanes lady briefs with them. She had some thoughts on Marls and her choice of underwear but kept them to herself. And it didn't matter either way. Because, as soon as she had gotten the garments down to mid-thigh, she had only one thought in mind:

_There it is!_

Indeed, there is was, standing erect. Like its owner, it was long and skinny: no more than six inches at the most and rather pale; even more so when compared to Marley's tan skin. And Kitty would never admit it, but it was cute...for a penis.

Kitty tried to turn away or even get up, but she could not advert her eyes—even going as far to find herself licking her lips as she examined it, taking notice that Marley didn't have testicles; though, after looking past a small patch of brown pubes, she could see the outlines of Marley's pussy—which could only mean that Marls possessed both sets of genitals.

Kitty found herself getting excited. And before she had even realized it, her hand had wrapped itself around Marley's shaft and her thumb started lightly gracing over the skin; an act that earned her a small moan from Marley, who currently had her eyes closed and her head held down.

"So, this is why you keep running off to the bathroom?" Kitty asked—though it was more of a statement—just before she tugged lightly on her shaft and pulled down Marley's foreskin, exposing the purplish head.

"Mhhphm!" was Marley's muffled response, Kitty being unable to see her face thanks to all the hair that obstructed her view.

"Didn't quite get that," Kitty taunted, and deciding to add injury, pulled harder on her shaft, earning a painful cry from the owner.

When Marley again didn't respond, Kitty used her free hand to push away the lose hair, wanting to see the face of the woman whose dick she was...playing with. Once it was all behind her back, Kitty took a good look at her, figuring that her face would have twisted into one of immense pain. But, as she looked her over, Kitty could not help but feel that Marley did not look to be in agony—it was more like...arousal?

"Ki..ttttyy," Marley suddenly coughed out in sputters, "please...don't...stop!"

Kitty blinked a few times in rapid succession, having been caught off guard by that response, but never one to displease when it came to pleasure of the sexual nature, tightened her grasp and started moving her hand up and down, taking long and powerful strokes that stretched the foreskin to the absolute limit. All while Marley sat there and made some...interesting facial expressions.

"Am I hurting you?" Kitty asked softly, surprisingly feeling concern as she slowed her pace down a little to gauge Marley's reaction.

Marley didn't respond—she just made some gestures towards the floor; this confused Kitty, at least until she looked and saw Marley's clothes, neatly folded and stacked in a plastic Walmart bag. And right on top, sitting comfortably in the cup of Marley's white bra, was a small container of moisturizer.

Kitty wasted no time in fishing out the bottle and squeezing some of the slippery substance onto the head of Marley's dick; this was followed by gently stroking up and down, making sure that it was evenly distributed until her penis glistened. She then rubbed it a few more times—just for good measure.

"Yes!" Marley weakly called out, her cries now easily distinguishable—they were cries of pleasure!

Kitty, sporting a cheeky grin, fired up her pace, her hand moving up and down the slippery shaft so fast that a _Squik Squik Squik _sound could be heard.

"Fuck!" Kitty grunted, feels beads of sweat trickle off her brow. Her hand started to grow clammy as sweat mixed with the moisturizer and she found her grip loosening, but the moans that she was earning propelled her forward.

Marley seemed to grow tenser with each stroke, and Kitty—whose hand was getting so slippery that it was sliding everywhere, started doing rapid fire strokes, her hand moving up and down the shaft so quickly that the head was nothing but a purple blur.

"Oh...g..." Marley grunted, her pelvis beginning to buck up and down while she made eye contact with Kitty.

Kitty nodded, knowing this would be it. She kept her gaze fixed on Marley, watching her bite her lip as she moved, feeling Marley's dick tense up...and then...felt a sticky substance cover her hand.

"Oh," Kitty said, instantly pulling away and looking down at her hand, mildly disgusted at the glop of white fluid.

She waited for a response but got nothing; Marley just sat there, head held back, face flushed, and body tense. Her dick already looked to be going soft: looking to have gone down at least two inches.

"You better get cleaned up," Kitty informed, doing her best to keep her gaze on Marley's face...and not lower. "Bell will be ringing soon."

Again no response. Not that it was the first time that someone had conked out after being intimate with her—though this was the first time that someone had done so after just getting a handjob.

When it became apparent that Marley was not going to respond anytime in the near future, Kitty rolled her eyes and left to wash the cum off her hand before it dried.

x—x—x—x—x

It was not until later, after she had showered, changed, and gotten into her Jetta, having just finished turning the radio to station that was playing _Payphone_ by Maroon 5 that it hit her.

She had given a handjob...to a girl!

And even worse...she actually...enjoyed it!

"What the fuck did I just do?!" In her confusion, she accidentally pressed down on the gas pedal, which made that loud reviving sound, earning several looks from the people that were getting into their own vehicles—none of which she paid any mind.

She needed help—and there was only one person to turn to in a time like this.

x—x—x—x—x

"This better be important," said Quinn's voice on the other end of the phone. "You interrupted my...studying."

Kitty held her iPhone 5 away from her ear—sounds of loud music, screaming, and no less than ten guys screaming "Chug!" could be heard. "Oh yeah, sounds like you are really hitting the books." She hoped that Quinn could hear her sarcasm over all the partying that was obviously going on.

"Did you just call to check up on me? Is my mom there?"

"No, I have a problem," Kitty informed as she stabbed her plastic fork into a still half frozen enchilada, two of the prongs breaking as soon they made impact with it.

"What?" asked Quinn.

Kitty pushed her Mexican T.V. dinner away and readjusted her phone. She did not know how to go about this. "Uh..." she started, taking a long pause before blurting out, "tisboutagirl!"

"Could you repeat that?"

"It's...about...a..." Kitty said, slowly enunciating each word as she twirled around the straw in her glass of skim milk, making exactly four twirls with every word and watching as small whirlpools formed.

"...a girl?" Quinn finished.

Kitty nodded...and then remembered that Quinn couldn't see her. "Yes," she said, glad that Quinn didn't witness that dumbass moment of hers—no need to reaffirm the stereotypes that blonds were dumb.

"Let me guess—Marley?" Quinn suggested, a response that made Kitty fall back in her chair and smack her elbow into her glass—where it proceeded to spill its contents and then fall off the table and shatter, making a sound so loud that Quinn then said, "Is everything okay?"

Kitty didn't respond, still being shocked at Quinn knowing that her problem was with Marley and not Tina, Brittany, or Becky. When Quinn's repeated blurts of "you still there" got to be too much, she finally spoke. "Ho..how'd you know it was Marley?"

"Cheerio intuition."

Kitty likened that that wasn't the real reason—by a long shot. But there were far more pressing matters at hand. "Yeah, it's about Marley."

"Did she get a part that you wanted?" said Quinn, sounding slightly miffed. "Wait, no, I got it; she got the solo you wanted. Listen, you just gotta—"

"It's nothing like that," Kitty interrupted, highly annoyed that Quinn was jumping to conclusions. She was starting to have second thoughts about whether or not Quinn could even help. Why hadn't she asked that Santana chick: the girl was a carpet muncher, after all.

"So, what is it?" Quinn pressed on. "Did you guys wear the same dress to school. Did she ask out the guy you liked? Did she—"

"I walked in on her masturbating," Kitty interrupted, not being able to take any more of Quinn's lame ass theories; she then quickly added, "And she was using some...irregular equipment."

"Irregular equipment? What was it—dildo...vibrator...zucchini?"

Kitty swallowed twice before speaking, feeling a slight lump form in her throat. "No, it was...how can I put this—self equipment." The lump got bigger, making her reach for her milk—only to remember that it was in a puddle all over the floor. She then forced herself to swallow again before continuing. "As in the same equipment that a guy...has."

The line seemed to go dead after that. Kitty feared that Quinn had taken her response as a crank call and hung up, at least until there was a barely audible: "Wow, who'd have thought that there'd be two of 'em."

Nearly dropping her phone from shock, Kitty belted out, "What'd you just say?"

"Nothing!"

"No, it was definitely something. Spill." Kitty was on the edge of her seat—literally; she had to sit back before she keeled over.

"I can't say—I promised. Listen, I gotta go. Pretend this convo never happened, and I will pretend that I don't know that Marley has...one of _those_." Quinn hung up before Kitty could ask anything else.

Damn, Kitty thought, setting her phone on the table. She looked down at her spilled milk and shattered glass but decided to let the housekeeper get it—that's what they overpaid her for.

And after going to the fridge and retrieving the pizza box that still contained half of last night's pizza—as well as a two liter bottle of Pepsi Max, since there was no need to ruin her figure—she headed to her bedroom to read the Bible and repent before God punished her for jerking off a girl—that had to be a sin.

x—x—x—x—x

Quinn starred at the screen of her Galaxy SIII, thoughts of her conversation with Kitty replaying over and over in her head. She could not believe that she almost let Rachel's secret slip like that. There was no telling what Rachel would have done to her if she let the cat out of the bag.

Ha...cat...Kitty. That was a good one. Okay, not really, but still.

Quinn shook her head at her terrible joke as she headed back to her dorm, walking past frat boys passing around a bong, giggling idiots playing beer pong, and two sorority pledges that were making out—stopping long enough to watch the girls and...observe their technique.

"Amateurs," she scoffed as she headed off to do some of that studying that she told her mom, in emails, that she did every night before she went to bed at ten.

x—x—x—x—x

"Whew," Quinn loudly declared, slamming down her text book on Mayan mating rituals and looking over the rough draft of her report—she likened that she was looking at around a B+ as it was. She had made sure to not put any end of the world references in: the professor having said that he would flunk anyone who referenced 2012 in any form.

A quick glance at the corner computer clock revealed it to be a little after midnight, meaning she had another three hours before she attempted to fall asleep, usually by downing a few brews.

What to do, she asked herself as she drummed her fingers on her desk. She caught a glance at her Metro North passes that she bought—only two having been used—neatly stacked on top of one another and sitting comfortably next to a thick stack of Cosmo magazines.

Seeing those seemed to bring something out in her—enough to make her wheel her chair around, away from the stupid, overpriced slips of paper. It made her question why she had ever bought the damn things in the first place? She should have known that she'd be too busy with college to go to New York on a regular basis; take right now for instance, with her currently engrossed in—

"Fuck, I am lame," she declared aloud, very grateful that there was no one in the room to agree with her.

With nothing else to do, she decided to get a little fresh air. Plus, the smell of marijuana smoke—curtsey of her roommate—was getting irritating, anyway.

Opting against putting on a jacket or sweater, she walked back out to where a party—different from the one she had been at earlier—was going on, occasionally having to step over bras, beer cans, and passed out colleagues. Sometimes she envied these guys and their laid back approach to college—this was not one of those times.

x—x—x—x—x

Nice night out tonight, thought Quinn, feeling a cool Connecticut breeze blow against her skin while her worn out—but comfortable—sneakers cobbled against the sidewalk. She continued to follow the streetlamps that emitted weak illumination: it being her only guide down the near empty courtyard that grew increasingly tenebrous the farther she traveled—having no destination in mind.

She considered just calling it a night and turning in. After all, just because she didn't have a bedtime anymore didn't mean she had to take advantage of the fact. Still, another part of her wanted to abuse her freedom—within moderation. And walking down a dim corridor may have been lame, but it was something that she was free to do of her own discretion.

The battle in her head over, she decided to keep walking. _Besides_, she thought as a Taco Bell burrito wrapper blew by her, _I could use a little exercise_. That was true—she hadn't seen her abs in months and she had to suck in the last time she attempted to put on her favorite pair of skinny jeans.

As she walked on, stepping over the fast food wrappers and cigarette butts of people to lazy to use the numerous trash cans, thoughts of Rachel and New York started playing in her head.

_Wonder what Rachel is doing right now, _Quinn thought, then immediately shook the thought from her head. _Don't think about Rachel, _she ordered herself. Damn that Kitty, going and putting thoughts of the girl that—

Quinn was snapped out of her thoughts by a slight stinging on her arm—which, upon looking down, revealed itself to be a single mosquito that was helping itself to some of her O positive blood.

"Get away, stupid pest," Quinn abruptly yelled as she smacked her arm repeatedly; it proved to be in vain as the vile creature escaped—and Quinn prayed that it would meet its end via bug zapper or a hungry frog.

Once she had calmed herself down, she started back towards her dorm, figuring that being attacked was a good indication that she had experienced enough adventure for one night, and it was probably after two at the least.

She decided to check her phone and confirm. But once the screen came on, she got not one but two shocks. The first being that it was only 12:39; the second being that she had eleven missed calls—all from Kitty's number.

Mildly curious, she decided to find out what Kitty just had to tell her and pressed call; her phone hadn't even rung twice before she got a frantic: "Why the hell did it take you so long to call back?"

"I was studying," Quinn informed, and refrained from adding: "for real, this time."

There was some inaudible muttering on Kitty's end, though Quinn could make out a swear word or two. Finally, Kitty said, "Dammit, I need your help—bad."

"Is it about Marley?" It was a rhetorical question; the only thing a fellow New Directioner ever called one another about was relationship problems; Quinn should know, having had to comfort Santana for over two hours after her break up with Brittany (though Santana ended up returning the favor).

"Yes," Kitty responded automatically. "This is important."

"How important?"

"So important that I need to see you—in person."

Fuck! That was important.

"Tell me more."

Well, she did say that she needed excitement in her life; now it looked like she was going to get it—and then some.


End file.
